After the Fall
by mandd
Summary: What if the morning after "I Am Curious Maddie" had gone a little differently? This is my  first chapter exploring the way I wish things had gone after the Big Bang...
1. Chapter 1

The first thing she was aware of as she woke up was the hand on her hip and the shoulder she was using for a pillow.

Not Sam's hand. Not Sam's shoulder.

David.

She opened her eyes. David's hair stood up every which way, his breathing deep and even. He was dead to the world and it was no wonder after last night. She examined his face in repose, taking in every detail: the dark stubble, the receding hairline, his mouth, quirked into a small smirk even in sleep.

Right now, she didn't know if she wanted to kiss that mouth or sock it.

She settled for pressing her fingertips lightly against his lips and whispered to herself, "David, David…What are we doing?"

She should get up before he woke up, remove herself from his range physically and get some distance emotionally so she could get her thoughts together. She needed time to process last night—what had happened between them and what it meant.

Last night had been crazy and out of control—_she_ had been out of control. The passion and chemistry between them was as strong as she'd always hoped and feared…and last night was proof that it could be all-consuming. She thought of the names they had called each other, the wreckage of her living room, the way she had slapped him and meant it.

But then there was that kiss, and _after_ the kiss…she had never felt so wanted, and had never wanted someone so deeply to her core—hadn't known it was even possible to desire someone with such intensity. And he had said that he loved her…although considering the circumstances, she wasn't sure what to make of that. Was it something that slipped out in the heat of passion? Did he really want to tell her that, did he mean it, and if so, in what way? How did he love her, how much, how deep?

And did she love him?

There was no denying that she wanted him: last night was proof that she wanted David Addison in a way that defied logic and reason. But in the light of day logic and reason came rushing back and she had to ask herself, was this really the _relationship _that she wanted? Mind-blowing sex followed by arguments and door slamming in the office? Teasing and endless double entendre with moments of honesty sprinkled in every so often; moments where they finally opened up and showed the longing they both tried to keep so carefully masked? Were these small glimpses of something deeper enough? What about the cool, sweet face of romance, the calm, soothing balm of love? Did she really want to go down in flames, regardless of how good it felt to burn?

And then there was the fact that just days ago she had considered marrying someone else…someone who seemed perfect for her. But she hadn't. Why?

She knew the answer to that one, at least.

David. She did love him, in spite of her better judgment . But was it real, lasting, forever kind of love, or just a bad case of, 'can't live with him, can't live without him'?

She needed space to figure all of this out. She tried to get out of bed without disturbing him, but as soon as she shifted her weight his grip on her hip tightened and he slid his other hand up her arm and tangled it into her hair, pulling her closer against his chest. "Maddie," he murmured, and opened his eyes. She pulled her hand away from his mouth, revealing his grin.

"Maddie…" he said again, his voice hoarse with sleep and laced with sex, and the sound of her name on his lips was almost enough to banish all thoughts of logic. Part of her wanted to give into the seduction of that voice, the other part wanted to leap out of bed to avoid the inevitable asinine comment that was sure to come next.

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her. His smile faded and his eyes grew soft and serious and intimate in that way that sucker-punched her every time. She hated that he was about to ruin the honesty of that look with the same old slick repartee, but she knew it was coming.

But he traced her cheekbone with his thumb, and said, "I can't believe you're really here. I mean, I've imagined it, being with you like this, a million times, but…" He shook his head and when he smiled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, she felt her resistance start to melt. Then he kissed her, gently and so reverently that it reverberated all the way through her, body and soul.

Suddenly, all thoughts of escaping the bed vanished, and Maddie wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him on top of her. All she could think of as he planted kisses down her neck and behind her ear was that she would gladly burn forever, just as long as he never stopped doing that…

But then right at that moment he pulled away and looked at her with an expression in his eyes that she had seen before—but never quite like this… He picked up her hand and kissed her palm.

"I know I said it last night, but last night was…well, _eventful,_ to say the least. And I don't want you to say anything back…I just need to make sure you hear me…"

He kissed her lightly on the lips. "I love you, Maddie," he said, and she knew for certain that he meant it in the real way, the best and most terrifying way.

Her heart was pounding. There was that duality again—all at once she felt on top of the world, elated and exhilarated, but at the same time, she couldn't help looking down at the ground and fearing how far away she was from the bottom. "David, I…" she began, not sure herself what she was going to say, but he kissed the corner of her mouth, stopping her.

"Shh," he whispered against her lips. "Don't say anything, don' t answer…I don't need an answer right now. I just wanted you to know how I feel."

"But…"

"Uh-uh. No more talking," he said and kissed her into silence.

Her brain was still shouting for the time and space she knew she needed. But as David's kisses moved down from her mouth to her neck and from her neck to her collarbone, her body took over and her brain was, for the moment, quiet.


	2. Chapter 2

David pushed a strand of hair off Maddie's forehead. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes were that deep, dark color of blue—of all the changeable shades of her eyes, this one was his favorite. There wasn't a lick of makeup on her face and he was sure she had never been more beautiful.

The last ten hours or so had been a revelation…He'd built up the idea of being with Maddie, of holding her, touching her, for so long now that he was almost shocked that the reality had exceeded his very vivid imagination.

Maddie in the flesh was an intoxicating paradox of wild and tender, sexy and sweet. He had fallen for her long before last night, but now? He was one hundred percent, head-over-heels, over-the-moon, crazy in love with her. And finally, _finally_ it seemed that she felt the same way. He had never felt so complete; so satisfied, and yet he had a feeling that he would never be able to get enough of this woman.

"Hey Blondie-Blond," he said, picking up her hand and placing it over his heart which was still hammering from round three. "What-say-you we call in sick, spend the whole day right here in this bed? I feel like there is still plenty of…_undercover_ work to be done…" He started to peel off the sheet she had pulled back over herself.

"David..." she said, grabbing onto the sheet and shaking her head with a small smile. "I need food. And a shower. Some hot coffee…"

"Okay…alright, I can work with that. You stay right here and…recover…while I go whip you up some breakfast. I'll bring it up here, race you to the shower and we can be back in this bed in ten minutes flat…" He kissed her shoulder. "Well, maybe twenty, depending what kind of shower you have in mind…"

"David, it's nine-thirty! And I have an appointment this afternoon," she said, sliding off the bed and taking the sheet with her. She walked over to the curtains and pushed them open. "And I'm sure you have things to do…"

She looked out the window, keeping her back to him and he felt the joy start to drain out of him. The way she was clinging onto that sheet after he had just explored every inch of her body was wrong… the way she wouldn't look at him was wrong…

"Appointment?" he managed to croak out. "We have an appointment? Who with?"

"No, not we, me. I have an appointment with my accountant. I've been putting it off for weeks and really can't postpone it, so…"

Finally she turned from the window.

"So…" he answered, and the word tasted like ashes in his mouth.

"So. I have to get going…"

He grabbed her hand as she headed towards the bathroom and pulled her back down next to him.

"_David,"_ she said, and smiled, but the smile seemed forced, not real like it had been just a few minutes before. "You're insatiable…"

"No, I'm…" _Worried you're shutting me out,_ he thought. "Well, yes, I'm insatiable when it comes to you, but who could blame me? It's not every morning you wake up in bed, next to the girl of your dreams."

"Girl of your dreams?" Maddie rolled her eyes. "Why do I doubt that?"

"I don't know," David answered, dead serious. "I don't know, because it's true and I'm pretty sure you know it's true."

Maddie's face clouded over and she looked down at her hands.

"I'm starting to get a bad feeling here, Maddie," he said lightly, trying to hide his growing panic. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat next to her. "Hey," he lifted her chin to get her to meet his gaze, but she kept her eyes down. "Where'd you go? Talk to me, what's going through that blond noggin of yours?"

She sighed and shrugged. "I don't know, David…I just feel a little…overwhelmed! I mean the way all of this has happened—Sam, and then our fight last night and then you and me…here…I'm just…confused."

"Okay, well maybe I can help." He brushed her hair over her shoulder so he could see her face. "Because from where I sit, it's pretty simple…"

"But it's not," she said. "Not for me, anyway. David…" Finally she looked up at him, and her eyes had changed to that frosty, crystalline blue that chilled him, and he realized how much power those eyes had over him, how they could bring the warmth of the sun or drop him into a cold, endless abyss. "I have so much going on in my head, and I can't even talk about it until I have some time, some space to think things through…"

He swallowed hard and raked his fingers through his hair.

"I see," he said, then cleared his throat because he could hear the hurt in his own voice.

"No. No, you don't because I'm saying this all wrong…" Maddie hid her face in her hands and took a deep breath. When she looked at him again, some of the ice in her eyes had melted and he felt a weak flutter of hope in his chest.

"I have so many things I need, I _want_ to talk to you about, but I just can't yet. It doesn't mean that I don't…care, that I don't want to be with you, that I don't_ want_ you…It just means…I just need a minute, a couple of days to catch my breath, to think about what's happened—to figure out how we're going to work."

He almost didn't want to ask for clarification, but he had to know. "Do you mean _how_ we're going to work or_ if_ we're going to work?""

"How. I mean how," she said. Right words, but she sounded weak and unsure of her answer.

David stood up. His jaw felt tight and his stomach was suddenly upset. Part of him wanted to lash out at her, accelerate this into a full-blown fight. Part of him wanted to pretend to believe her and strut out of her bedroom as if all was right with the world. But the strongest part of his deepest soul wanted to grab her and shake her, to kiss her senseless and show her again what she had to already know…That this was real and it was right. And that whatever crazy glue it was that bonded them together was bigger and stronger than the both of them.

Instead he sighed. "You know, it's funny…I woke up this morning feeling happier than I have since—I don't remember when. Ever, I guess. I thought that finally we..." He shook his head. "Well. Take your time, Maddie. Take your space. I'll go to the office but I'll be careful not to cross your path if you come in…give you plenty of room to think."

He picked his boxers up off the floor and put them on. Maddie stood up.

He searched the floor for his pants and found them near the foot of the bed. "I'll be out of here in ten minutes. I'm just going to take a few minutes downstairs…clean up the mess from last night."

"David," she said, coming towards him, grabbing his hands and stopping him before he could get dressed. Right then he hated how just the touch of her fingers sent little shocks of electricity running up and down his arms. "What you said this morning…it means the world to me. You have to know that I…that I do…"

"Don't say it," he interrupted her and he knew his frustration was evident in his voice, but he couldn't reign it in. "Don't say that right now, I don't want to hear that right now, when you're confused and you don't know what you're going to feel tomorrow or the next day or in the next ten minutes. I don't want to hear that from you unless I know it's real…unless YOU know it' s real." He slipped his hands out of hers, and then in a quieter tone said, "I don't want you to say that and then take it back."

She was silent for a moment, then in a small voice, said, "I'd never be able to take it back," and in spite of himself, he softened.

"Look," he said, picking up her hand again and squeezing it. "You need time, I can give you time. Do what you need to do, think what you need to think, but know this…" He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him. "It doesn't have to be this hard," he murmured against her hair. "We can be good together, Maddie, we can be great. But you have to give us a chance."

He pressed his lips against her forehead and sent up a silent plea that this wasn't goodbye. She lifted her face and kissed him with so much tenderness and passion that it took all of his restraint not to throw her back onto the bed.

Finally he ended the kiss and with his hands on her shoulders said, "You know where to find me, Goldilocks…" and he picked up his jeans and left her standing in the middle of the room, looking almost as sad and lost as he felt himself.


	3. Chapter 3

"_It doesn't have to be this hard…"_

David's words were still ringing in her ears, her lips still tingled from the feeling of his mouth on hers…His departure from her room felt so abrupt and unwanted that she almost forgot that she was the one who had asked him to leave.

She could hear him moving around downstairs, trying to erase the damage they'd done to her living room the night before, and for some reason the idea of him trying to put her things back in order made her feel even more terrible.

She crawled back into bed and let the out tears she'd been choking back. She was torn between relief at being alone and the impulse to run downstairs and beg David not to go. How could she want him to leave _and _stay at the _same time_? As much as she wanted her space, she wanted him back the minute he left the room. It was insane.

Which was why she was doing the right thing. Her head was muddled and right now she didn't know up from down. She owed it to herself, and to David to get some clarity before they moved forward.

And yet…

She couldn't stop thinking about that last kiss, the way he had pulled her to him, the soft hoarseness in his voice that sent chills racing down her spine…

She heard the front door open and shut and tried to fight off a growing sense of abandonment. _He's not abandoning you, you nitwit…you drove him out of here._ What had she expected? That he would refuse to leave? That he would try to force her into a discussion that would end up in a long, drawn-out fight, leading them nowhere?

Yes, she realized, this was exactly what she had expected. David had thrown her for a loop. She was always harping at him to show some maturity, to act like an adult, and now that he had, it left her…grateful, but also at a bit of a loss. He had done exactly what she asked, he was giving her space and time, but she was starting to wonder…did she really need it after all?

Because right now, she certainly didn't feel like she wanted it.

* * *

><p>David shut the front door and leaned against it, closing his eyes. The cab wasn't here yet, but he needed to get out of her house before he lost his cool and charged back up to her bedroom. He'd almost blown it a minute ago—had actually gotten halfway up the staircase before he made himself stop and turn around.<p>

He walked to the curb, sat down, and held his head in his hands.

Was he doing the right thing? If he gave her too much time, there was a good chance that she would think herself back into that hard, icy shell where he couldn't reach her.

But if he pushed her…well, that would be certain death. He knew the woman well enough by now to know that she wasn't going to respond in his favor if she felt that he was forcing his agenda on her. She'd probably be shocked to know that he'd actually listened to her the night before, when she said that she felt that he and Luke Skywalker had taken over, that she hadn't had any say in the situation, any _control_…

And control was very big to Madolyn Hayes. Huge. So if she needed to get some of it back before they could move on…so be it.

The cab finally pulled up and David put his hand on the door handle and looked back at her bedroom window. He couldn't shake the feeling that his fate rested on this next move—that his happiness or his doom would be decided by whether he got into this taxi or stormed back through her door.

He pulled the handle open and got into the backseat with a sigh. As the cab pulled away he thought he saw her bedroom curtains flutter, but realized it had to be his overactive imagination. He must have imagined it, because if he really believed that Maddie was watching him drive off from her house, he might start to think that she was regretting sending him away. And that thought just might give him more hope than he could handle right now.

He'd laid his cards on the table, worn his heart on his sleeve and given her the one gift that he hoped would show her how much he loved her: the time and the power to decide their fate. But relinquishing that power to her meant that she could crush him. He needed to hold on to some protective armor so that he could survive if she dealt him that final blow, and too much hope could be deadly.

So he would wait and let her come to him. She knew how he felt, she couldn't plead ignorance about that anymore. He would keep his distance until she'd had enough space to realize that they belonged together.

_If _she realized that they belonged together…

The taxi drove past an old dive bar; The Rusty Nail, and for a split second David thought about telling the driver to pull a u-turn…it was tempting, the idea of getting blottoed, of numbing the pain and confusion he was feeling, just for a little while…

But there was a slight chance that she might call the office today, or, even less likely, that she might come_ in _to the office. It was a long shot, but if she did, he was going to be there.

And really, what was the point, anyway? There wasn't enough tequila in Mexico to wash Maddie Hayes off his mind…and he oughta know—he'd tested it out a time or two.

* * *

><p>Maddie lifted her hands out of the bath water and examined her wrinkled fingers. She'd been soaking for over an hour, soothing her overworked muscles and trying to clear her head, but every time she closed her eyes, she flashed back to the night before…<p>

She had never been with a man like David, never had a man make her feel the way David did…She couldn't believe she was admitting it, even to herself, but she _liked_ the fact that he didn't treat her like glass. His unrestrained strength didn't make her feel small or weak, but more powerful herself—as though she could finally give herself permission to let go and give as good as she got. Somehow he struck a perfect balance: his roughness and passion were tempered with just the right amount of tenderness and generosity. And how did he know just where to kiss her neck? It was if she had drawn him a map…She touched the spot at her hairline and shivered.

She sighed and pulled the plug on the bathtub. This wasn't working. She was supposed to be thinking about the future, about how, _if_, they could work as partners in every sense of the word, and all she could do was obsess over the past twelve hours.

She got out up out of the bathtub, dried off and looked at the clock. It was a quarter to eleven…her meeting with her accountant wasn't until three.

What she needed to do was get out of this bedroom…no wonder she couldn't stop thinking about last night…she was still at the scene of the crime, so to speak. She would get ready, take herself out to a nice, long lunch, maybe have a glass of wine to relax and begin processing all that had happened in the last two weeks—the last two_ years—_so she could start looking ahead.

Although…

It would probably be a good idea to double check that she had all of her receipts from the past six months before her meeting. Yes, she had prepared a folder with everything she should need a week ago, and yes, that folder was in her briefcase, but something could have slipped through the cracks…and what was the point of having a meeting if she hadn't gathered all of the information? She knew Agnes had gone through David's files last week and given her everything she could find, but considering David's general lack of organization coupled with how tense things had been lately, it wouldn't surprise her if something had gotten lost in the shuffle…

So...it looked like she was going to have to stop by the office today after all. And the reason that decision made her heart pound was certainly due to nothing more than the adrenaline rush that came with finally taking action, with making a plan. She needed her space, but business was business. And David had promised to give her a wide berth.

She looked in the mirror…her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, and before she could stop herself, she thought, _I just hope it's not too wide…_


	4. Chapter 4

By twelve-thirty David was rethinking the wisdom of passing by the Rusty Nail. He'd only been in the office for a couple of hours, but already he felt like a caged animal.

He got up for the umpteenth time and paced his office from one side to the next.

The further he had physically gotten from Maddie's house, the deeper he'd felt the sting of her rejection. Maybe it wasn't a complete rejection, and hopefully not a permanent one, but it still hurt like hell. Why was he here, today of all days, in the office, alone? Today should be a friggin' celebration, a national holiday, and instead he was here by himself, pining for a woman who he was pretty damn certain loved him back. It was upside down and inside out, but when was anything otherwise between the two of them?

And where the hell was Viola? He'd sent him out to do some groundwork on a new case with strict instructions to meet him back here at noon, sharp. His original intention had been to have Bert do all of the major legwork so he wouldn't miss Maddie if she happened to grace them with her presence, but now he'd decided to go out into the field himself...he needed to get some air, get out and go somewhere, anywhere but here...

Sitting around, waiting for Maddie to _maybe_ call or_ maybe _make an appearance was only going to fuel his frustration. And too much frustration was going to lead to anger and too much anger would lead to—well, they'd already played that scene last night.

He was going to do his very best to be patient and to play by her rules, but that didn't mean he needed to sit around here like a chump.

Luckily, this new case had fallen into his lap. He needed a distraction and this one sounded like a doozy—a woman suspected her terminally ill cousin of faking his illness and fleecing the family for cash. You'd have to be some kind of a sicko to do that to your own family, but unfortunately, he'd seen worse. There was plenty of fieldwork on this one to keep him occupied for at least a few days and he was hoping that if he stayed out of the office it would be easier to shake the feeling of being perpetually stood up.

He sat back down at his desk and buzzed Di Pesto.

"She's not in, Mr. Addison," was the immediate response. "And she hasn't called..."

"I'm not calling about her, I'm calling about him..."

"Him?"

"Yeah, him, Bert—he was supposed to be here half an hour ago."

"Oh. He hasn't called either."

"Well. I'd really like to get out of here, but I'd get a lot further with Bert and his wheels."

"I understand. When I see him, I'll tell him you want to see him right away."

"Good. Until then, you know the drill."

"Yes sir. Two buzzes if she comes in smiling, three buzzes if she comes in frowning and one long buzz if she comes in growling."

"That's my girl, Agnes."

"You can count on me sir."

Good, old Di Pesto. In an uncertain world, it was nice to know something remained constant and unchangeable.

He looked at the clock. 12:35. Okay, enough was enough. If he didn't get out of here he was going to do something drastic—like call Maddie's house. He'd just go grab a sandwich and hopefully by the time he got back Bert would be back here and ready to go.

He already had his hand on the doorknob when two quick buzzes came over the intercom.

* * *

><p>Maddie breezed by Agnes with a quick, "Good morning Miss Di Pesto" and headed straight for David's office. She opened the door without knocking, but the knob was pulled from her grip and she lost her balance and stumbled right into David.<p>

He wrapped an arm around her waist to catch her and she grabbed onto his shoulder.

"Wow," he said, with that smug, sideways grin. "I've had girls fall for me before, but this is taking it to a whole new level..."

"David...I was just coming in..."

"I was just heading out..." He released her, too quickly it seemed. "Story of my life..I say goodbye...You say hello..." He was still smiling, but the smugness was gone.

Suddenly she felt shy and awkward. It was strange, to be here with David in the office, after last night, after kissing him goodbye in her bedroom just a few hours ago. And she had indicated that she wasn't going to come in today, and yet here she was, although she had a perfectly legitimate reason...it was just that right that second she couldn't remember exactly what that reason was, because David's smile had faded and he was looking at her with those smoldering green eyes that seemed to melt away the higher centers of her brain.

"So," he said, closing the door behind him. "Didn't expect to see you here today."

"Yeah, well, I'm just stopping by..."

"Yeah?" He took a step closer to her but left about four feet of distance between them.

"Yeah..."

He nodded. "So is this visit...business or pleasure?"

"Business," she answered automatically. His face fell and she instantly regretted it. Why couldn't she have said 'both'?

"I see. Well. How can I help you today, Miss Hayes?"

_You can come over here and kiss me—_she thought, and she realized that this was what she wanted to say, what she wanted him to do. The way he was looking at her was just about to scorch her to the ground and she wanted him to touch her, to come closer, to forget what she'd said about time and space, at least for a minute.

"Receipts...I need your receipts. For my meeting."

"Oh. Didn't Agnes give those to you last week?."

"Did she?"

"Pretty sure she did."

"Well...I just thought I'd better double check. Make sure you didn't have any more. Make sure I didn't miss something."

"Nope. I don't think you missed anything."

"Oh. Okay then."

"Okay," he answered and bit his lip and she wanted to close the distance between them, to grab his face and kiss that mouth... Then she noticed something—some kind of bruise on his throat.

"David, what is that?" she asked and stepped up to him and brushed the skin above his shirt collar with her fingers. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly what the purplish mark was, and she knew that by asking about it she was risking opening up a topic she probably should not discuss with him at the moment. But it gave her an excuse to touch him and so she used it. She moved in closer on the pretense of examining the welt, tracing the top of it with her index finger.

"What's what?" David swallowed hard and she felt his throat move under her fingers. He looked down, bending his head so that they were almost touching. "Oh, right, that…Oops, thought the top button covered that up…"

"David is that a…a"

"A hickey, Miss Hayes?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. He pulled down his collar and revealed the full bruise. "Why, I do believe it is...and quite an impressive one at that..."

"But I...I didn't that do that…"

"You didn't?" David feigned shock. "Oh," he said with a smirk. "Right… must be those vampire bats we've got flying around LA…"

"No, I just mean that I'm not...I'm hardly in the habit of..." She shook her head and felt her face flushing. "I don't give _hickeys_."

"Ooookay...do you prefer the term 'lovebite'?"

"_David..."_ She tried to sound exasperated, but didn't move her hand away from his neck.

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, I think I might have left you a little something back here." He grazed his palm along her throat and slid it to the back of her neck. He brushed her hair to the side and pressed his fingers, very lightly against _that_ spot. She closed her eyes and leaned in closer to him. "Yikes," he murmured. "Looks like one of those bats got you too...must be an epidemic." His breath on her skin sent goose bumps all over her body.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. His hand was still on the back of her neck, her hand was pressed against his collar.

"I can't believe I did that..." she said. "I certainly didn't mean to mark you...I'm sorry..."

"No, no, don't apologize," he answered in that soft and husky tone that always seemed to vibrate through her body like champagne bubbles, making her lose her head. "Actually, I kinda I like it. I mean, in my mind, last night was one for the books... and why wouldn't I want a souvenir from one of the best nights of my life..."

"Best nights of your life huh?"

"Best nights, uh-huh." He leaned closer until their lips were almost touching. She tilted her face up to him.

"Huh..." she breathed and closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her. But instead he dropped his hand from her neck and took a step backwards.

"Well..." He cleared his throat and put his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor. "I guess I really should go find Bert...get going on this case."

"Case?" She felt like she'd just been dunked into a pool of cold water. Her body was so tightly wound that her ears were buzzing.

"Yeah, got a new case today. Nothing for you to worry about—Bert and I will handle it. Actually, it's good timing."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. We'll be out in the field mostly. So I shouldn't be in the office much this week.

"Oh," she answered, with a sinking feeling of disappointment.

"Which is great, right? That way you can have some time and space."

"Right. Space...Time." She was starting to hate those words.

"It's probably better this way. I mean, to be honest with you...after last night...and this morning...it's just too hard for me to spend time with you without wanting to...I mean, I just don't know if I'd be able to stop myself. Like just a second ago? I wanted to kiss you so badly...and I was _thisclose_ to just kissing you right there, on the back of your neck...I just look at you, and I want to hold you...or press you up against that door and...Well. Anyway. I know that's not what you want right now."

"It isn't?" she asked, breathless.

"No. I mean—is it?"

"No. Yes...Look, David, I..." she stepped over to him and grabbed his hand, but was stopped mid-sentence by the door bursting open...Bert came flying into the office with Agnes right behind him.

"Mr. Addison, I apologize for my tardiness, but I was hot on the tail of the subject—I followed him all the way to the hospital, but at the last minute, he gave me the slip..."

"Bert, I told you to wait..." Agnes said, tugging at the back of his shirt and trying to drag him back out the door.

Maddie let go of David's hand. She'd been just about to tell him that maybe she didn't need time or space in order to figure things out, but that would have been a mistake. She wouldn't be able to process things clearly under his influence, that much was obvious. "It's okay, Mr Viola. I was just leaving..."

David looked away from her and pursed his lips. "Right. And Bert and I need to discuss this case. Unless...was there something else you wanted to say, Miss Hayes?" He gave her a piercing look and she almost caved again.

"Me? No. I mean...yes. But it can wait." She took a deep breath. "It should wait."

"Great," he said. Flatly.

She nodded. "Great."

Agnes rolled her eyes. "_Great..."_

* * *

><p>David led Bert toward the door, not listening to a word of his verbal diarrhea, although he suspected it pertained to the case at hand.<p>

That woman was going to drive him crazy...What had she been about to say, and why had she let Bert interrupt them? And that lame story about the receipts? She came here just to see him and he knew it and _she_ knew it. And he'd had her right where he wanted her...when he was touching her neck she was barely breathing. She wanted it just as bad as he did, so why was she pumping the brakes? And she really had a lot of nerve, looking at him with those soft blue eyes, like her heart was breaking every time _she_ kicked _him_ out of the room...

"Mr. Addison..."

He was just crossing the Blue Moon threshold when her voice rang out, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around slowly. She stood at his door, her cheeks flushed in that irresistible way that made her look eighteen years old, and his heart started to pound.

"Yes, Miss Hayes?"

"I just remembered...can I see you back in your office for a quick minute?"

"Sure," he nodded, and without taking his eyes off her leaned down to Viola. "Go warm up the car for me, will you Big Guy?"

He walked slowly back to his office, trying to pick up a clue about why she had called him back, but her small smile was mysterious. The woman really was a riddle, wrapped in an enigma...

He entered his office and closed the door behind him, ready to hear whatever she had to say, but totally unprepared for the way she grabbed him by the collar and slammed him up against the door. Then suddenly she was kissing him, wildly, fiercely...It only took him a moment to recover his shock and then he was matching her intensity. She bit his earlobe and he tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her neck in the way he knew drove her crazy.

Then he grabbed her and flipped them around so that she was up against the door, and he pressed against her as she pulled him closer, as if neither one of them could bear to let a millimeter of space come between them.

They pulled away at the same time and when they came back together the kiss was softer, sweeter and more sensual. He ran his hands down her back and she placed her palm against his cheek.

"Wow," he said, catching his breath. "What was that for?"

"Well," she said, and her voice was winded and shaky. "Sounds like you're going to be busy for a few days...I just wanted to give you a proper send-off..."

He nodded. "Well that was very proper...the proper-est..."

She straightened his tie. "Guess you better go. Bert is waiting for you."

"Yeah," he answered but he didn't move and she didn't either. She had that look again, that sadness that came over her face every time she told him to go, and he wondered...did she want him to refuse to leave?

"Maddie—you know the only one keeping us apart right now is you...right?"

She sighed. "I know. I'd just rather think things through now, on the front end so we don't rush things, ruin everything..."

"Okay—you don't have to explain. I'll be waiting."

He kissed her one more time, slowly and softly then let her go. He turned to leave, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "There is just one thing..."

"Yes?"

"I'm not waiting in vain over here, am I? I mean, we both have about the same idea about how this is going to go, right?"

She smiled. "You're not waiting in vain. And yes...same idea."

He nodded. "Okay. Then take your time."

He was about to open the door again when she stopped him. "David?"

"Maddie?"

"I don't think you'll be waiting very long."


	5. Chapter 5

Maddie sat up in bed, fluffed her pillow and flopped back down. How was she supposed to get any sleep when her bed linens still held a whisper of the woody, musky scent that was one hundred percent David? She thought back to the kiss against his office door and suddenly felt a longing for him that went so deep it was overwhelming.

_You know the only one keeping us apart right now is you..._

She hugged the pillow next to her and glanced at the clock. 11:30. Had it really been just twenty-four hours since she had crawled into bed expecting to end things with Sam?

And instead she'd wound up making love to David.

Talk about your inauspicious beginnings.

She pulled the pillow closer and sighed. Why couldn't they have come together before, without the threat of Sam's proposal? There had been so many missed opportunities, countless openings that either she or David had blown because they were too scared or too proud to admit their feelings. By the time Sam had shown up out of the blue she'd all but given up hope that they would ever find their way to one another. They were just too different and too stubborn.

And yet there was that undeniable pull between them—it was magnetic, the way she gravitated towards David—even those times when her mind told her that she loathed him, that she thought she couldn't stand the sight of him—she could never bear to be away from him for long. Part of it was raw, physical attraction, part of it was the fact that she couldn't steamroll over him the way she could most men. And yes, she had to admit, part of it was because sometimes, a lot of times, she had _fun_ when she was with him.

But above everything, it was the softer side of David Addison that kept her coming back for more—the fact that underneath his cock-of-the-walk bull was a man who would follow her to another country to save her from herself...who truly admired her brains and her moxie...a man who _prayed _for her soul...

And he was her friend. She'd never admitted it to him, but she was pretty sure he knew he was the best friend she had, and she was pretty sure she was his. And not just out here in LA, and not just at this point in their lives. She could honestly say that David knew her better than anyone ever had, better than she knew herself sometimes. And vice versa.

And now, they'd slept together, consummating a relationship that, if she was honest, had started with their first dance in that crappy dive bar.

So they were partners, friends and lovers, but did that mean they could really survive as a couple? Could they actually have a life together? She wasn't quite able to picture what that would be like, and yet she absolutely couldn't imagine life without him. And the idea of David with anyone else, with another woman made her want to claw the walls. After last night, she couldn't even stomach the idea of him going out on a date with anyone but her.

There was one thing they'd never done—all the time they'd spent together and all the things they were to one another and they'd never gone on a real date.

She shot up in bed.

Maybe that was it. Maybe one way to rectify their screwed up path would be to rewind things a little—take a step back while still moving forward...

She checked the clock again. 11:35. Too late to call him or too soon? She turned on the light, picked up the phone on her nightstand and dialed the first five numbers then slammed the receiver back down. He was probably sleeping. And how could she ask him to give her time if she chased him down every few hours?

She switched off the light and lay down again.

Her mind flashed to this morning: to David telling her that he loved her, that she was the girl of his dreams, that last night was one of the best nights of his life...She thought of that last kiss in his office, the feeling of his hands in her hair, on her back, his mouth on her neck...

She switched the light back on.

She picked up the phone again and her heart pounded. She wasn't sure what she was going to say, but suddenly she couldn't wait another minute to hear his voice.

* * *

><p>David kicked off his blanket and sat up. He was bone tired, and yet he couldn't sleep. In spite of the fact that he was physically, emotionally and mentally drained, his mind kept going in circles, around and around the labyrinth that was Maddie Hayes.<p>

He'd done so much analyzing and soul searching in the last week he was going to turn _into_ Maddie if he wasn't careful. His mind was full of unanswered questions, and right now there was only one solution...

Chocolate milk.

He walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door and took a big swig straight out of the carton. As he gulped it down, he realized he hadn't eaten anything since he'd inhaled a drive-thru burger with Bert at 1:30. "Maddie, Maddie, what are you doing to me? Can't eat, can't sleep...You're turning my life into a bad easy-listening song."

He finished the milk, crushed the carton in his hands and shot a free throw into the trashcan. _Three points_.

The truth of the matter was that he didn't want to be here, alone in his empty apartment. It felt completely unnatural to have finally expressed his feelings—physically and verbally—to the woman he loved, only to be separated from that woman twenty-four hours later. It was beyond frustrating, but if he was honest, it was more than that...

It was lonely.

He didn't realize that he had been listening for the phone all night until it rang and he jumped on it like it was a time bomb only he could diffuse. He was back in his bedroom with his hand on the receiver before the first ring was even complete.

"Wait a minute..." he stopped himself from picking up. "Be cool Dave, be cool..."

He waited for a second ring. "Addison residence," he answered.

"Hi—I hope I didn't wake you..." Oh god, she sounded sexy and a little sleepy and he could just picture her, lying in her bed, wearing something silky, or better yet, wearing nothing at all...

His heart was racing and his legs felt weak as he fell back onto the bed. "No, no, I'm awake. Can't seem to get to sleep. There's this blond that I just can't get off my mind..."

"Hmm...anyone I know?"

"Yeah, I think you do. You know McGillicuddy, right?"

"Cute."

"So...Didn't expect to hear from you so soon..." As the words came out of his mouth he realized that this might not be the kind of phone call he wanted, that Maddie calling too soon could be a really bad sign. "Everything ok?" he asked, and his voice quavered.

"Oh, yeah, fine. Everything's good."

"Good," he said, cautiously.

"Well—not everything, I guess."

His heart sank. _And here it comes. She's taken her time and space and she's going to hand over an executive decision_... _something to the tune of, _'_David I am not taking this case'..._

He rubbed his hand over his eyes and took a deep breath before answering. "Okay. So tell me what's wrong."

"Well...nothing's wrong, really, it's just that...I was just lying here, you know, thinking about...everything..."

"Mmhm."

"And I know I keep telling you I need time to think about things..."_Okay, that was the wind up, here comes the pitch..._"So I guess it's kind of ridiculous for me to be calling you now, I mean considering what I've said, about space and everything, but..."

"But?"

"But...I just...I guess it doesn't really make sense..."

"Just tell me for god's sake," he said, unable to hide the desperation in his voice.

She sighed. "Fine. I...miss you."

He was so intent on waiting for the other shoe to drop that it took him a minute to absorb what she'd said.

"David?"

"That's what you wanted to say? That you miss me?"

"I know...it seems like I'm contradicting myself..."

"No, no, contradicting is good, _missing_ is good. I mean, not as good as actually being together, but you know, if you have to be apart missing is better than...not missing..." He exhaled in relief. "I miss you too."

"You do?"

"Maddie...do you really have to ask?"

"Well...It kind of got me thinking that maybe there is a way to do this with a little less time and a little less space."

He could practically hear the hallelujah chorus ringing in his ears.

"Yeah, definitely, I'm very open to less time and space, more me and _you_..."

"And I think what we need is to go on a date. A real, honest-to-goodness, first date."

"Uh, yeah, absolutely! Positively! A date sounds great."

"We've just skipped over so much, disturbed the natural order of things and I think I'll feel better, _we'll_ feel better if we go back and fix it before we rush ahead."

"I think it's a great idea," he answered. _And one that would have happened naturally if you hadn't gotten so nuts this morning,_ he added. What did she think? That he was just planning to show up at her house every night around midnight and ravage her? Not that that plan sounded so bad right about now... "I just want to be clear on the time—space continuum here...When were you thinking this date would take place?"

"Well, I guess I was thinking...anytime really."

That was promising. "Okay...How about Saturday night?"

"Saturday night?"

"Well, yeah, Saturday night, as in no school the next day, as in Date Night USA..."

"As in two days away?"

"What's wrong? Too soon?"

There was a frosty silence. Then, "No. Saturday night is fine."

"O-kay...are you sure? Cause you don't sound very fine."

"No, I'm fine. It's fine."

"Look, Maddie, I'm trying to keep up here, but I'm a little confused. I thought you said anytime. Do you want to make it later? Next week, maybe?"

"Next _week_?" she asked, her voice rising two octaves. "Maybe I'm the one having trouble keeping up...I thought that you wanted less time, less space...but I must have misunderstood..." Woah, she had dialed it up to a four-alarm fury and he didn't even know what he'd done.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, hold the phone...is Saturday not soon _enough?"_

There was dead silence on the other end.

"Maddie, I would love to take you out _tomorrow_ night. I would love to be with you _right this minute_ instead of talking to you on the phone! I picked Saturday because I've been thinking about what kind of date I would take you on ever since our _fine_ evening flopped, and I know exactly what I want to do. But I need a couple of days to get it together. I don't want to rush the plan—the last thing we need is a repeat of the symphony for god's sake!"

"You have a plan?" she asked softly.

"I have a plan."

"Oh," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "Okay—well—okay, sorry. That sounds great. Saturday night sounds great."

"There is just one catch..."

"Okay..." she said with a note of suspicion.

"I remember everything you said about your idea of a fine evening out and I've taken it all to heart. I just kind of want to...put my own spin on it. Switch it up just a little. I mean, any guy can plunk down a credit card, rent a tux, and buy tickets for a show and some fancy schmancy meal, and I promise to do that for you, many, many times through the years..."

"Through the years, huh?"

He paused. "Blondie, when are you going to get it? I'm in this for the long haul?"

She was quiet for a moment, then said, "I'm getting it."

"I just need to know that I have a little wiggle room here. I mean, I feel like this is some kind of test, and I don't want to fail..."

"David! It's not a test."

"Okay. Then I'm going with the plan."

"Great! But _I_ just want to be clear..."

"Yes?"

"I'm assuming this is casual dress? And will I need to bring my own bail money?"

He sighed, exasperated. "Forget it, break out your finest, I'll pick you up at eight, we'll do the limo, the tux, the tickets...no fake FBI agents this time, I promise..."

"David, stop, I'm kidding. I'm looking forward to your plan. Please don't change it."

"Really?"

"Really. Truly. I can't believe you been thinking about taking me out on a date all this time."

"Yeah? Well, I'm full of surprises."

"That much I know...So. Will I see you at the office tomorrow?"

"Don't think so. Bert and I are meeting there pretty early, then heading out again."

"Okay. And Friday?"

"Probably the same."

"Well," she sighed and there it was again, that same wistful tone when they said goodbye. "Then guess I'll see you..."

"Saturday night. I'll pick you up at five."

"Five?"

"Five. Part of the plan..."

"Right. David?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't wait," she said and her voice was so sweet and sexy that he wanted to crawl through the phone line.

"Me either."

"Sweet dreams," she said, her voice a little husky.

"Oh I think I can guarantee that..."he answered. "I'm just trying to decide which one to start with...there's so much material...that first kiss last night, or maybe later when I was nibbling on your thigh just a little bit...you seemed to really like that..."

"David..."

"Or maybe I'll go with you kissing me in my office, pressing up against me..."

"_David_," she said, breathlessly._ "_I'm having enough trouble getting to sleep as it is..."

"Sweet dreams, Maddie."

"Good night, David," she answered, and he waited until she disconnected the line before hanging up. Then he lay back in bed, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.


	6. Chapter 6

**(A.N.:Thanks everyone for all of the encouraging reviews! I'm really enjoying writing this story. A few of you asked me to share a little about myself, so I updated my profile. Thanks for reading!)**

On Thursday morning, Maddie came into the office a little earlier than usual. Before she even had a chance to ask, Agnes informed her that David had already come and gone. She tried to squash down the feeling of disappointment as she opened her door. A single red rose in a small vase sat on her desk. The note propped next to it read:

_M-_

_Hand__ delivered by yours truly-__for the record_

_my secretary had nothing to do with it. _

_In fact, you better hide this note before_

_Dipesto comes snooping around..._

_Miss you..._

_Love, D._

_p.s._

_Thanks to you, last night my dreams were _

_very__ sweet, but they __could_

_never hold a candle to the real you._

_(And if I told you about these dreams_

_you'd know that's a compliment _

_of the highest order...)_

_Can't wait for Saturday... _

She smiled and read the note again. She couldn't wait for Saturday either. It was ridiculous—she'd seen him yesterday afternoon—woke up with him in her _bed_ yesterday morning—and yet somehow it felt like they'd been apart for weeks.

She picked up the vase and smelled the rose. There were still droplets of dew clinging to the petals...she must have just missed him. She wondered if he and Bert really had that much to do outside of the office, or if he was just trying to clear out so she could have the place to herself.

He'd left a file on her desk and she opened it and started reading his notes on the new case. It seemed fairly straightforward, albeit depressing to think that a man would fake a life-threatening illness in order to steal from his own family. Hopefully they would find it was a false accusation.

She closed the file and sighed. She had plenty to do here today, but she couldn't help feeling that she would much rather be out investigating instead. There was a time when the thought of spending the day trapped in a car with David Addison would have been akin to torture. But now? It didn't sound so bad.

Sounded kind of great, actually.

She touched a red petal with her fingertip and shook her head. A man who _delivered his own flora_...What on earth was he planning for Saturday? Knowing David, anything could happen which was both unsettling and, she had to admit, exciting.

* * *

><p>It was after six when she admitted to herself that she was stalling around, waiting for him to come back to the office.<p>

_This is silly,_ she thought and started packing up her briefcase. _I'm doing it again—hoping to run into him when I told him to make himself scarce!_

Agnes had poked her head in to say goodnight at five forty-five—and her glance at the rose and her small smile had not gone unnoticed. How were they going to do this? How could they keep it professional in the office if they actually became a couple? This place was hardly the epitome of professionalism and decorum as it was...could they really afford to degrade the state of things even further?

But even more than the dilemma of working together was the big question she still couldn't shake—was all of this happening only because their possible future together had been threatened? When and how would they have come together if Sam hadn't raised the stakes with his proposal?

There was something about the idea that David had been motivated by a challenge or by fear, rather than simply by his feelings for _her _that she just couldn't move past. She'd always imagined that when—if—they came together, David would take the lead; that he'd drop the bravado and the wise cracks and finally lay it all on the line. Somehow, a part of her had hoped that one of these days he would come banging down her door, so full of passion that he would finally put to words what she'd suspected for a long time—that he loved her, that he wanted her...

Instead, he'd acted like an ass, playing the jilted lover when another man had tried to stake a claim on her. But he wasn't the jilted anything...up to that point he hadn't opened up enough to even allow himself to be rejected. She hated that it had taken interference from someone else to get him to acknowledge his feelings.

This was her sticking point, and so far, was at the top of her list of things they needed to discuss. And yet it was juxtaposed by all of the things he'd said to her since yesterday morning...that he was in this for the long haul, that he'd been planning a date for her ever since that stupid 'fine versus fun' bet...

That he loved her...

She pulled out a pad of paper and a pen.

_D-_

_The rose was a nice surprise this morning—_

_Though I'm sorry I missed the delivery man..._

_I have a feeling tomorrow is going to _

_be a __very__ long day..._

_I can't believe I'm saying this, but the _

_office is too quiet when you're not here._

_Miss you too._

_Love,_

_M._

She folded the page in half, wrote "D" on the outside and stood. Then she sat back down, opened the note again and picked up her pen. Her cheeks felt warm as she added:

_p.s._

_Had some pretty sweet dreams myself last night, _

_but I can't really remember the details today. _

_Guess you'll have to refresh my memory..._

_I can't wait for Saturday either._

She took the note to his dark office and left it on his desk. She turned and paused at the doorway for a moment. A beam of light from the outer office lit up his empty chair. It was scary and a little irritating to realize that she could miss him this much, that his presence, or lack thereof, meant so much to her, but there it was.

She turned off the lights in the office and locked up. She was used to being alone, but tonight she just felt lonely.

* * *

><p>David flicked through the channels for what had to be the hundredth time. He wasn't looking for anything, wouldn't have been able to concentrate if he'd found a show he actually wanted to watch, but clicking the remote gave him something to do.<p>

He was fighting a vague sense of guilt...while he'd stayed away from the office all day, he hadn't exactly been out working on the case from sun up 'til sundown. He and Bert _had _met early in order to stake out the guy's house so they'd be ready to follow him, hoping he'd make his way back to the hospital or to a doctor's appointment. But the guy hadn't moved. They'd stayed until about four and called it a day. It was too early on in the case to go for an overnight stakeout, and, truth be told, if it came to that he was hoping to be working with a different partner—someone taller, blonder, and infinitely more kissable...

So technically, he could have come back to the office in the afternoon. But he hadn't for two reasons. One: he had a list of things to do to get organized for Saturday. And two: as much as he would have loved to see her, he knew Maddie needed the time-yes to think and analyze-but he also wanted to give her time to keep missing him. It wasn't that he wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine; not exactly. It was just that he'd certainly had plenty of time to miss her-longing for her during her stint with the moonwalker-and though by that point he'd already admitted to himself that he loved her, being without her had really driven the point home.

But with Maddie, it was a delicate balance. If he let things go too long, it could be a mistake...

He'd congratulated himself for keeping his distance all day, but suddenly he had a strong urge to call her, to get a reading on where her head was at after twenty-four hours of silence. What if absence did not make her heart grow fonder? What if she needed a regular dose of his personal brand of charm to remind her that she loved him? What if she decided she _didn't _love him? What if his perfectly planned, carefully orchestrated date for Saturday never got a chance to get off the ground?

He threw the remote on the table and stalked to his bedroom. He was going to call. Just to say goodnight and that he hoped she'd had a good day. He'd make it short and sweet, just long enough to pick up on her tone of voice and remind her of how irresistible he was...

But he stopped and sat down on his bed.

This wasn't a game they were playing anymore. This was real. And, although her actions on the subject had been a little confusing, she had asked him, repeatedly, for space. He knew her well enough to know that she really did need time to process this without his interference.

A shiver went down his back as he realized that he actually _wanted_ to give her the time—not as a tactic, not too impress her, but because she needed it...

He wanted to give her what she needed, even at his own expense.

He stared into space, slack-jawed. So this was what it meant to really be in love. Doing what she needed instead of what he wanted. The realization made it even harder to resist calling her...he was bursting with emotion and wanted to tell her all about it...

But it would have to wait until Saturday.


	7. Chapter 7

On Friday morning there was another rose on her desk and a note which Maddie tore open, not even taking the time to set down her briefcase.

_M-_

_I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe you were onto _

_something with the whole time/space thing..._

_Don't get me wrong—I had to physically restrain myself from calling you last night—_

_but slowing down and thinking has made me realize some things..._

_Good things, important things that I'll tell you about in person tomorrow night._

_I hope you're thinking good things too,__ but I have to say,_

_I'm a little nervous about what might be going through your head right now... _

_Anyway, here's a little sneek-peek of what's going through mine: _

_I've never felt this way before, Maddie..._

_You've turned me inside out and upside down,_

_and I am over the moon, out of my head, crazy about you. _

_Love, _

_D_

Maddie dropped into her chair and read the note again, and then again, her heart beating a little faster each time.

She was becoming more and more clear on the fact that she thrived on the banter and the challenge and the humor that David brought to her life.

But when he was open and transparent like this it left her breathless: his vulnerability was the one thing that knocked down all of her defenses.

She pulled out a piece of paper and a pen.

_D-_

_I've realized some important things too in the last couple of days... _

_Like the fact that waking up and knowing I won't see you all day _

_makes it a little bit harder to get up and go,_

_That the hours seem to drag when you're not around,_

_That many of my thoughts begin with, _

_"I can't wait to tell David this..."_

She took a deep breath and struggled with whether to leave it was is or tell the truth. She put the pen to the paper and wrote:

_And that I've never felt this way before either..._

_Love, _

_M_

* * *

><p>On Saturday morning she came downstairs to find a rainbow of seven helium balloons on her coffee table. She smiled, puzzled. Clearly he'd broken in while she was sleeping. But balloons? She picked up the card and ripped it open.<p>

_M—_

_Do you have any idea how hard it was to break into your house and __not__ come up to your bedroom? _

_I hope I'm getting major points here for self-restraint. _

_Alright, alright, I admit it, I did get all the way to the top of the stairs, but I came right back down._

_ Cross my heart. _

_Somehow I don't think that my sneaking into your bed _

_in the wee hours of the morning would fit your idea of standard, first date protocol. _

_I, on the other hand, can think of no better way to start the day..._

_(or end the day, as the case may be...)_

_You're probably wondering about the balloons...just a little clue about tonight._

_And you'll be shocked to know that the dress code is not, in fact, casual._

_Did I forget to mention that?_

_Black tie with one caveat: don't wear a dress that is longer than knee-length. _

_Y__es, part of the reason is that you have great gams; _

_the rest of the explanation I cannot divulge at this time. _

_To say that I'm looking forward to tonight would be a huge understatement. _

_I never knew how much I could miss someone in just two days. _

_(Has it only been two days?)_

_Love,_

_D_

She sighed and sunk into the couch. She was embarrassed to admit how welcome he would have been in her bed this morning...still she was grateful that he was doing this the way she'd asked—a real first date, a fresh start...

She skimmed the card again. Balloons as a clue...she could only think of the circus or a birthday party...and a black tie _knee length_ dress?

Oh my god...

She'd been so sure the date was going to be casual that she had gone shopping for the wrong outfit! Hadn't he said casual? She was sure he had, he even made a point about not wanting to rent a tux...She wanted to wear something new, something he'd never seen before, and she'd found the perfect thing for an easy, casual date, but black tie? And knee-length for god's sake? Everything she had was old and horrible or he'd already seen it.

She stomped up the stairs to survey her closet but knew already that she wouldn't find anything good enough. He had a lot of nerve, waiting until the last minute to spring this on her. Did the man know _nothing_ about women?

She was on her way to full blown fury when it occurred to her why she was so upset...she wanted to blow his mind when she opened the door tonight. And then she realized that it probably didn't really matter if she wore a new dress, or if her makeup and hair were perfect. David had seen all the sides of her, including her worst, and he accepted her, _loved_ her anyway. She felt her irritation fade to be replaced by a rush of warmth.

But she was still going shopping.

She headed to the kitchen to make coffee. A bouquet of two-dozen red roses sat on the table and she gasped in surprise. A small pink box sat next to the vase. She opened it to find a croissant and another note that said:

_I was up at the crack of dawn, so figured I'd stop by the bakery._

_Now go look in your coat closet._

Feeling like a kid on an Easter egg hunt, she ran to her closet and flung it open to find a garment bag with another note pinned to it.

_i bet you were steaming when you thought I changed_

_the dress code on you at the last minute..._

_Come on, I know you better than that, Blondie._

_I saw this in a store window about a month ago and thought of you._

_Couldn't figure out an excuse to buy it for you at the time_

_without seeming weird or presumptuous._

_(is this weird or presumptuous?_

_Cause I''m really going for suave and romantic, but_

_I'm not sure, i've never done anything like this for a woman before...)_

_Anyway, I hope you like it._

She unzipped the bag to find a vintage black halter dress with a fitted bodice and a slightly flared knee-length skirt. She ran her hand over the silk—the fabric was beautiful and it was her size...

She sprinted up the stairs with the dress and put it on. It was very retro, very 1940s and it fit her like a glove. It didn't skimp on cleavage, but wasn't too much, either. It was tasteful, elegant, sexy—and something she would have picked out herself. She absolutely loved it.

She felt a tingle that started at the top of her head and vibrated all through her body. _No, _she thought, _Not weird or presumptuous. Definitely romantic. _ David had listened to her idea of a real date, had remembered that she wanted to be wooed and courted with some planning and consideration. And so far he was exceeding her hopes and expectations by a long shot.

She twirled around once, just to see the dress flare in the three-way mirror. She felt dizzy and young, like she was on her way to her first prom—high on anticipation and lust and the future. And David.

David and the future. She unzipped the dress and hung it up carefully. Those two words seemed to be fitting together better and better.

* * *

><p>David pulled out his checklist and went over it one more time. Car—check, clothes—check, Scotty—check, Smokey and Duke—check. He'd covered everything ten times over, but still couldn't shake a nagging feeling of insecurity...<p>

What if she didn't like it?

She said this wasn't a test, and maybe she didn't mean for it to be, but if the past couple of days had done nothing else, they had driven home the point that he wanted—_needed_—Maddie to see the light, to know that they belonged together. He couldn't lose her, not now, not when they'd come so far and he'd had a glimpse of how good they could be.

He raked his hands through his hair and checked his watch. Four-thirty. There was no time to start doubting the plan now. At the very least, she would have to be impressed by the effort he'd put into it. It was the thought that counted, and all that.

He took one last look in the mirror. His stomach did a double flip and he tried to calm himself down. _It's just a date Dave, take it easy_...

But there was no way to fool himself—this was so much more than a date. This was his chance, maybe his _only_ chance to prove to the woman he loved that they belonged together, that their differences could be a _good _thing and that they had more in common than she realized.

He grabbed his bag, walked out the door, then reentered five seconds later. He almost forgot the tunes for the car. He grabbed the mix-tape off the counter and put it in the bag, humming "Blue Moon" as he locked the door.


	8. Chapter 8

David pulled up to Maddie's house at four fifty-five. He rewound the cassette in the tape deck, batted at the fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror, and cracked his knuckles twice.

The vintage 1958 300 SL Merc handled like a dream, and he'd been unable to resist the urge to speed on the route to Maddie's. But gunning the car at every corner had thrown off his careful time calculations and now he was five minutes early.

No way was he ringing that doorbell one second before five p.m.

He scanned Maddie's front yard and flashed back to the night he'd come banging on her door, garden flowers clenched in his fist, his heart slamming against his rib cage—full of longing and bursting with all of the things he wanted to tell her, of the anticipation of finally holding her, of kissing her in a way that had suddenly felt as essential and necessary as breathing.

And then there was Sam.

He shook his head. He wasn't going to go down this road tonight. All that mattered was that he had wanted and needed this woman for a long time, and he'd known what it felt like to lose her.

He didn't ever want to feel that way again.

Four fifty-seven. Close enough. He grabbed the single rose sitting on the passenger seat and hurried up the walkway.

* * *

><p>The doorbell rang just before five. She hadn't expected him to be so prompt. "Just a second," she called, and her voice sounded shaky to her own ears. Her heart sped up and she felt a rush of adrenaline shoot up her spine and out through her arms and legs.<p>

She smoothed the front of her dress and checked her lipstick. Her hair was loose, parted on the side with a gentle wave framing her face. It suited the dress David had picked for her perfectly: old Hollywood glamor revamped with a modern edge. She knew that she looked good. So why was she so nervous?

She was halfway down the stairs when she realized that she was running and forced herself to slow down. But she was still breathless when she opened the door.

They stood in silence, and she felt as if she hadn't laid eyes on him in ages. He wore a black tuxedo and bow tie and when he smiled that crooked smile and let his eyes sweep slowly down her body then back up to her face she felt that sensation of heat, a slow burn that only David had ever made her feel. _Fire and ice_, she thought, knowing that she was melting under his gaze.

"Wow," he breathed.

"Hey, stranger," she said and pressed her hand against his cheek, unable to resist touching him a second longer.

He closed his eyes, then circled his fingers around her wrist, lifted her hand and kissed the middle of her palm. "Hey."

When he opened his eyes she saw more than just lust and appreciation. There was tenderness. And something else, something she'd noticed before but hadn't wanted to acknowledge. Something that made her feel...cherished.

He dropped her hand and handed her a single rose from behind his back and she remembered their first attempt at a "date". It had been a bet, technically, but she was kidding herself if she didn't admit that it had really been a clumsy attempt to get closer to one another. They had made so many missteps. Would they really be able to finally get this right?

"Thanks," she said, looking down at the rose, suddenly feeling shy.

He whistled. "That dress is even more dangerous than I imagined."

"It's beautiful," she smiled. "How did you manage to pick out something that fit me so perfectly?"

There was that smirk again. "You should know better than anyone that I've spent plenty of time studying your dimensions. I could draw you with my eyes closed."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't know l_eering_ was such an exact science. And I thought you didn't want to rent a tux," she said, taking the opportunity to look him up and down. There was no denying it, the man was born to wear a tuxedo.

"I didn't."

"Didn't want to?"

"Didn't rent one..."

She frowned. "And yet here you are...wearing a tuxedo."

He smiled. "The monkey suit's mine."

"Yours?"

"Yep."

"_You_ bought a tuxedo."

"_I _bought a tuxedo."

"Okay, I'll bite..._why_ did you buy a tuxedo?"

"I'm glad you asked. See, I'm really into this woman—she's very classy, sophisticated—very uptown."

"Do tell..."

"She likes the finer things in life—opera, ballet, fancy restaurants—things a guy might need a tuxedo for. So, maybe it's a little...premature, maybe it's a tiny bit optimistic, but I'm serious about this girl, so I figured I better keep one of these things in the closet. Just in case."

"Hmm. I don't know if I'd say it's premature..."

"You don't think that she'll think I'm jumping the gun?"

"I think that she'll think..." She stopped. She was overwhelmed by everything he had done for her so far tonight and they hadn't even left the house.

"Yes?" he prompted, squinting as if trying to read her.

She took a step closer to him and adjusted his bow tie. He smelled so good and she just wanted to pull his mouth down to hers, to drown in his kiss, drag him upstairs and rip off his perfectly tailored suit.

Why hadn't he kissed her yet?

"I think she'll be touched that you went out and bought a tuxedo just for her." She looked up at him so that their lips were almost touching. "And i I think she'll think you look incredibly handsome."

He brushed her hair off her face, then wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck. "God I've missed your face," he said, but he wasn't smiling; there was no hint of teasing.

She closed her eyes and murmured, "I've missed you too."

She could feel the heat of his lips, millimeters away from hers and he whispered huskily. "I want to kiss you so badly."

She found it hard to swallow, but choked out, "Well then, why don't you?"

The warmth disappeared and she opened her eyes to see that he had taken a step back.

"I can't," he said, and put his hands in his pockets. "This is a first date. Can't kiss the girl on the doorstep _before _a first date. We're rewinding this, remember...doing everything in the right order..." He grinned.

"Great," she muttrered. "I'm being punished by my own words."

"I'm not punishing you, Maddie, I'm just trying to play by your rules." His grin turned devilish. "But it's good to know that you consider not kissing me to be a punishment."

Could it be...was it possible that David Addison was playing _hard to get_? Well, two could play at that game and he was an amateur where she was the master.

"Fine," she said and squared her shoulders.

"Fine," he answered. His eyes twinkled at her irritation, but the fact that they were that intense shade of green belied that this was any easier for him than it was for her.

"I'll just get my wrap," she said, icily, and picked it up from the back of the couch.

He took the shawl from her. As she walked past him, his fingers brushed her arm and he grabbed her fingers and squeezed them. "Hey Blondie..."

She turned around.

"You look drop-dead gorgeous tonight. Did I say that already?"

"Not in so many words..."

"Well you do. It's so obvious, sometimes I forget to tell you."

"Thanks," she said, feeling herself soften a little. She couldn't believe she was admitting this, even to herself, but he was right—it would have been so easy, _too _easy, to skip the whole _date _part of this date and just immerse herself in the heat and passion between them. But she had questions, legitimate questions that needed to be answered.

"So. Your chariot awaits Miss Hayes. And we're on a tight schedule."

"You, on a schedule? This I've got to see..."

David put his hand on her waist, guiding her out the front door. The trouble was that every time he touched her all of those questions and misgivings seemed to fly right out of her head.


End file.
